Growing Up (And Not-So-Little Brothers)
by thepensword
Summary: If Dean knows one thing, it's that little brothers are supposed to be smaller. And for a while he knows (he KNOWS) that things will stay that way, until one day he looks up at his brother and realizes (with sudden, terrible dread) that he is looking UP.
1. Little Brothers

"See you after class, Dean!"

Dean grins at his kid brother and ruffles his hair. "Seeya," he says and Sammy runs off.

Joey Rodriguez stops and stares. "Dude," he says.

Dean raises an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You are so lucky. My lil' bro just got his growth spurt and now he's taller than me."

Dean's smile gets bigger because unlike 5'4" Joey, he's 6'1" and Sammy's fourteen and a good ways through puberty and still only comes up to elbow height on him.

"Yeah, Sammy's kinda a small kid," he says, and even though he feels a little bad about it, he's glad too because little brothers are supposed to be just that: little.

Joey rolls his eyes and shoves him and Dean shoves him back. Then the bell rings and they sprint to make it to class on time.

* * *

 ** _Stay tuned for more..._**


	2. Shoes

It's two months later and Sammy's shoes don't fit. The kid's been complaining about aching feet for at least a week and Dean's finally decided to check.

The shoes aren't just a little small. They're _really_ small.

Sam smirks at him triumphantly. "See?" he says.

Dean rolls his eyes and shows Dad, who laughs and promises to get some new ones tomorrow while they're at school.

"You know what they say about big feet?" says John, putting a hand on Sammy's shoulder.

Sam cocks his head and furrows his brow. "What?"

"Big feet mean that you're gonna get tall soon."

Dean's face pinches sourly and they both start laughing at him, but he honestly doesn't care because all he can think about is that Sammy _can't be taller than him_.

But Dad's right. Bigger feet herald a growth spurt.

* * *

 _ **Not over yet and the next chapter's a**_ ** _long 'un..._**


	3. Growing Pains

Sammy is fidgeting.

Dad's out in his fed suit, drilling the local sheriff on their case. Dean's pretty big, but he's still a bit young to pass for an FBI agent. He can't wait, though. When he was younger (and no one was looking) he would take Dad's badges out of the duffle and pretend to be working a case.

He's so close. Dad says maybe next year, when he turns twenty, because even though he was technically an adult last year, Dad says he's not a man 'till he's seen two decades gone by.

Dean doesn't want to say that he's seen more in nineteen years than most people do in a lifetime, but he thinks it.

In any case, he's here now in a crappy motel, feet on the table, trying to write in the hunter's journal that Dad insists he keep, and Sam is sprawled across the bed behind him doing homework. And he _won't sit still and it's driving Dean mad._

 _Rustle. Page flip. Rustle. Rustle. Pencil scratching. Rustle. Rustle. Change of position. Rustle. Page flip. Rustle._

"Dude!" Dean finally exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. "What's wrong with you?"

Sam raises an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you sit still for, like, _two_ seconds?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," says Sammy haughtily and goes back to his homework.

The fidgeting is less, but still there, like Sammy's trying to stop himself but can't, which is weird because _Dean's_ the impatient one. Sammy is excellent at sitting still for hours on end, not making a sound and silently fuming until eventually it explodes and he and Dad go back to biting each other's faces off and it's up to Dean to be the peacekeeper.

Dean turns around and stares at his oddly fidgety little brother and is surprised to see that Sam's face is pinched like he's in pain.

"Dude, seriously, what's wrong with you?"

Sammy doesn't look up from his notes and mutters a nearly indecipherable, "I'm fine, Dean."

Dean knows that's a lie because what doesn't he know about his brother? Sammy's a good liar but he can't fool Dean. Never could, because Dean's the one who's cared for him for years and years and he knows his every expression, every twitch of the lips and what that means for Sammy's feelings.

Sammy is a book that only Dean can read, and so Dean knows that his brother his hurting and presses the issue.

Sam is not pleased. "I'm _fine!"_ he snaps. "Leave me alone!"

And Dean looks at the twitching of Sammy's long, long legs and thinks about his big, big feet and the way his jeans suddenly seem too short, and he figures it out.

Sam may be labeled the smarter of the two brothers, but when it comes to solving the puzzle that is Sammy, there's no one better at it than Dean.

"Growing pains?" he says sympathetically, and Sam's head snaps up so quickly that Dean worries for a moment about whiplash.

"No." His head shoots back to his books.

" _Sam…_ "

His brother looks up and Dean is surprised to see tears glistening in his eyes.

"Fine. Yeah, growing pains. Happy?"

"Is it bad?"

Sam nods silently. Dean knows what this is about, this hiding thing that Sam does whenever he's in pain. John is tough and Dean is tough and Sammy feels he has to be tough too. He can't show hurt because somehow that will make him less of a man, not worthy of being a Winchester, not worthy of Dad and Dean's love.

Dean wishes he could set Sammy straight, but he knows from experience that nothing he says will change what's in his brother's mind.

He can help with this, though, so he gets up and sits beside Sammy and brushes the papers aside. Sam watches him curiously as he reaches out, forcing Sam to lie back against the pillows. His baby brother resists at first, but at a look from Dean just goes with it.

Dean pulls Sam's leg out from under him and starts rubbing up and down, working his knuckles into the muscles in a way he knows feels good because that's what Dad did for him. Sammy let's out a small moan of relief and Dean smiles.

"Better?" he asks. Sam nods and smiles at him a bit. Dean feels warm inside, the feeling that comes with a job well done. Because this _is_ his job. Taking care of Sammy.

It's only later that he remembers to be annoyed about the implications of growing pains.

* * *

 _ **Still not done yet...**_


	4. Back-to-Back

"Dean, stand next to your brother real quick?"

Dean's heart freezes because he knows what _that_ means and he doesn't like it. Not at all.

He's been avoiding the issue. Trying not to really look at Sammy. Deliberately positioning himself uphill, or on a curb, or plopping down in the nearest convenient chair so that he won't have to stand up on equal ground and see the truth.

But now Dad's looking between him and Sammy with a crease in his forehead and _asking them to stand back to back like freakin' children._

It's infuriating because ever since Sammy started getting his growth spurts, they didn't stop and Dean had to watch, painfully, as his brother got taller and taller.

Dean doesn't want to, but he never defies a direct order, and, hoping maybe he misunderstood, slouches across the room and plants his boots on the linoleum beside Sam's.

Sam watches him curiously and then they both stare silently at Dad.

"Stand back to back."

Dean is unable to suppress a growling noise and does as he's told. When Dad tells him to quit slouching, he reluctantly straightens up and the back of his head is pressing into Sam's and he knows where this is going because his baby brother is at eye-level.

"Well," says Dad, grinning at the pathetic expression Dean is sure he must be making. "Looks like Sam's caught up to you, Dean."

Dean should be glad that Sammy's not doomed to be a shrimp, but he isn't. All he feels is absolute anguish at the suppressed little smile on his brother's face.

"God damnit," mumbles Dean.

* * *

 _ **One more chapter...hey, guys? Review? Thanks. Love ya.**_


	5. Four Years

Four years since he's seen Sammy. Four years that the kid's been on his own.

And it's been two weeks since Dad went messing. One and a half weeks since Dean started to worry. One week since he first had the thought to see Sam. Half a week since he built up the courage. The remaining half to actually find his brother.

And now he's here, in Sammy's apartment, at midnight.

He can't find beer anywhere, and he thinks it's probably because his goody-two-shoes brother doesn't have any.

He hears a creak behind him, a silent footstep only detectable to the trained ear, and he knows it's Sam because this is his house, so he's not surprised when a punch comes swinging his way. He dodges it easily and they fight, but Sam is rusty and soon Dean slams to the floor, straddling either side of him and grinning like a madman because damn, he missed this kid.

"Whoa, easy, tiger," he says. Sam stares at him, unbelieving.

"Dean?"

They exchange words, a joy that Dean has been denied in recent years. Unable to resist, he makes a jab at the current state of Sam's skills, and seconds later his own back is being slammed into the cold wooden floor and Sammy is smirking.

"Get off of me," says Dean. Sammy does as he's told (for once) and extends a hand. Dean takes it and is soon back on his feet, brushing down his clothes and straightening his (Dad's) leather jacket.

Then he looks up at his brother.

Up.

 _Up_.

Up at his brother. His _baby_ brother who's supposed to be _smaller than him, damnit_. Except that he's not smaller. He's quite the opposite, surpassing eye level and now towering over Dean, and it's not acceptable and more than Dean can take.

Sam says something and Dean's not really listening, just shocked by the sudden height difference (and joy at seeing his brother, of course, but that's far overshadowed by this terrible blow to his pride and he's surprised the world hasn't imploded yet.) Dimly he hears the end of the question.

"—here?"

He can piece together what that means and weakly makes another jibe. "Well, I _was_ looking for a beer." His heart's not really in it though, and he has to do it…can't even stop himself. His hands reach forward until they're resting on Sammy's shoulder—and yes, his arms are tilted upwards.

Sam is watching him curiously. Dean takes one last note of the height, just in case he's hallucinating, but he's not. He knows he's not. Deep down, he knew that this was coming the day Sam outgrew his shoes.

Dean gives Sammy's shoulders a firm shake, partially to check that he's solid (because he hasn't seen Sam in years, who knows what they've been feeding him) and finally lets go.

He briefly thinks perhaps this isn't even Sammy at all, but a monster in his form. But no, he knows his brother, and this is him. This man (for he's no longer a boy, really) towering over Dean is his little brother.

Sammy's grown up and he's really not so little anymore.

* * *

 _ **...and that's a wrap! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, or even just read this story. I'm really grateful that you all took time out of your lives to read my first humor piece! (The rest all have some level of angst because angst is just fun to write.) Have a nice day! Oh, and happy Halloween!**_


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